Dork Diaries: Tales of a Not-So-Fun Summer
by PanopticBibelot
Summary: Summer has rolled around for the students of Westchester Country Day and Nikki Maxwell is ready to kick back and relax. But with factors like Mackenzie Hollister, the resident mean girl and Brandon, Nikki's heartthrob, plaguing her mind, kicking back and relaxing are the least of her worries.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so I know I'm doing everything that's not SS but guys, don't worry, I'm working on a ShikaTema one-shot right now, so...yeah. I'm not totally procrastinating.**

**Anyway, the reason behind this Dork Diary ****fic, which will probably be long, is because to me, the series is going at a snail's pace. So if you don't read Dork Diaries, then you may hate it or are out of the target audience (tweens and early teens, I guess) but I am 14 and I've loved those books since it came out 2009, 5 years ago (yikes, it feels much shorter). So in the books, Nikki, the main character, likes Brandon, and Brandon likes her. Simple. But Mackenzie Hollister, the snob, is trying to come between them. A lot of the situations with Mackenzie seem avoidable/trivial so yeah Brandon and Nikki could already be together and THAT is my problem.**

**This Brandon and Nikki thing needs to hurry up! Like seriously, I am fed up with this whole "he looks at me, I look at him, we blush and look away" shit. Like seriously, it's been 6 books! I'm not getting any younger! I was 9 when I started and I'm turning 15 this month, Rachel Renee Russell, please step your game up, and realize you target audience is growing! I mean, the books setting is when their in the 8th grade so...  
><strong>

**So I took it into my own hands to make a Dork Diary thing, more mature than the original series. Takes place in summer between 8th and 9th grade.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Dork Diaries Series, Rachel Renée Russell does, I wouldn't be writing a fanfic if I owned the series.**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Monday, June 3rd<strong>

Summer Summer Summer Summer!

What time is it? Summer Time!

Summer is here and I'm ready to partayyy. More like, I'm ready to sit at home, watch tons of Netflix, and curl up with a bowl of noodles as I ponder how inadequate I am compared to Blaire Waldorf.

I mean really, that woman knows how to get what she wants; juggling her socialite status, dealing with Gossip Girl's scandals, and handling Chuck-freaking-Bass!

She is so awesome, I want to be her.

Anyway, besides that, since Summer is here I don't have to put up with Mackenzie Hollister and her bullcrap, so I'm super happy. So happy, I skipped out of school, never mind the staring CCP's, I was just so glad to escape the Calvin Klein stink bomb that surrounds them and lingers in the hallways. I mean, whew! Did it smell like egotistical with a dash of pomposity or what?

But I was sad about leaving my best friends Zoey and Chloe.

Chloe will be going to some educational camp where they'll teach her all about the importance of semi-colons and active-voice so she can become even more of a spectacular writer. I questioned her choice of how she wanted to spend her Summer, I mean, why would anyone want to go to ANOTHER English class for a WHOLE month?! That's like, well, that's like another, month long English class! Horrible. Then the next month, along with her family, she'll be visiting her relatives.

Zoey is going on a vacation for a month and a half. She'll be spending her time visiting the pyramids of Giza, flying in helicopters over the cracks and crevices of the Grand Canyon, nibbling on Hors d'oeuvres given to her by hot, shirtless Central American dudes on the beaches of Costa Rica.

Really, fitting all those activities and more into a month and a half is a great feat in itself! I do hope she has fun.

Besides our busy schedules (Yes, I will be very busy, what with all the seasons of shows I will be watching), we promised to hang out all August! I can't wait!

The last thing that upsets me, frustrates me, and makes me want to cry is Brandon. I know he's not going anywhere, he told me in Biology.

"Are you doing anything this summer?" he whispered, it was the last period of the day, we had just finished the finals, and let me tell you, it was tough.  
>"No, you?"<br>"Nope. I'll be volunteering a lot though. Hey! You should visit me sometime."

My stomach had turned and I could feel those blasted butterflies fluttering around like they owned the place. But could I blame them? _Brandon_ wanted to see _me_ in the summer!

Would I be brave enough to visit him? That is the question. If I couldn't build up enough courage to go see him, then we probably wont see each other for the WHOLE summer and it would be my fault entirely. Can someone say devastating?

I was silently laughing, though, as Brandon said this to me because I could practically feel Mackenzie's hot stare on my back as she overheard us. Ha! Take that!

Then the bell rang and we walked together talking until he had to go down the opposite hall and I started skipping out the main doors.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Wednesday, June 12<strong>**th**

It is only the second week of summer and I swear, I'm forgetting my alphabet.

I'm drawing less and less and watching Netflix more and more, and I can actually feel myself deteriorating into an even more sedentary lifestyle. I mean, it's become ridiculous. Just earlier, I gave up on reading because flipping the pages was tiresome. It was just a magazine that I was using to kill the time between commercials.

I should text Chloe, but no phones, her camp says, as texting "ruins the vocabulary and syntax of one's person" or something like that. She's only allowed one phone call a day but to her family. It sounds less like a fun summer camp and more like a prison!

Zoey had called me earlier, though, so I wasn't too bored.

"How are you?" I asked.  
>"Fantastic! Amazing! Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!"<br>"Whoa, calm down Mary Poppins!"  
>"I can't, Nikki, I'm so excited. We're going deep-sea diving and hopefully I can see the Kraken."<br>That is unlikely, I think, but who am it to kill her joy?  
>"That would be scary!"<br>"That would be awesome! If I see him, I'll put in a good word for you."  
>"Oh Zoey, I knew I could always count on you to make me look great to sea monsters!"<br>"Don't mention it. Gotta go now!"

* * *

><p><span><strong>Saturday, June 29<strong>**th**

Brianna is a ball of disgusting. That little turd is seriously getting on my LAST nerve. You know what she did? She walked into my room, holding a bottle of nail polish upside down, screaming, "Miss Penelope will make your nails a masterpiece!"

"Brianna go away," I said.

Obviously that runt didn't listen to me, that deaf-  
>Hold up: is that nail polish leaking?<p>

After noticing the drizzle of sparkly pink polish drip to the floor of my bedroom, forming a pretty pool, I realized that Brianna had the bottle open.

"Just WHAT are you doing?!"  
>"Inviting you to Miss Penelope's Nail Salon, duh!"<p>

And this child had the nerve to stick her tongue out at me. TWICE.

"Stick your tongue out one more time and I'll rip it from your mouth!"

She did it again, challenging me. All right, I'm game.

I lunged for her and she ran out of my room, spreading the nail polish stain to my doorway, when it ran out, focusing the stain in my room and my room only.

"ARG! BRIANNAAAAAAA!"

For the next half hour, a Tom and Jerry like chase went down until my mom decided to step in.

"Alright, you two: stop it."  
>"But Mawwwwwwwmmm," I started, "Brianna spilled nail polish all over my carpet."<br>"Brianna!" Mom said, slightly annoyed."  
>Then Brianna started (pretending) crying. "I – I just wanted to invite Nikki to M-Miss Penelope's Nail Salon's grand opening."<p>

Wah-Wah, bullcrap.

But my mom's heart instantly melted. "Aw, Sweetheart, its okay. Nikki will clean it up, don't worry."

"Puh-lease! Lady, are you crazy? I am NOT gonna clean up that troll's mess, thank you very much."  
>But I said that in my head, so my mother didn't hear it.<p>

Instead I said, "But why? She messed it up, so why do I have to clean it?"  
>"She didn't know better."<br>"But-"  
>"Nikki, its easy. Just use the nail polish remover, then wipe away the carpet with soap and water. Simple, okay?"<p>

If it's so easy, mother, then why didn't you do it?

Anyway, I ended up cleaning it, and my mom figured, since I'm cleaning my carpet, then why don't I clean my room AND Brianna's. (Gross! Who knows what type of stuff I'll find in there. Buried Treasure? The Lost City of Atlantis? _A HUMAN CORPSE?)_

Summer is boring, Brianna's a demon, and I am now a maid.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Thursday, July 4<strong>**th**

Ah, Independence Day.

The day where everyone and everything is decked out in red, white, and blue, where all-American delicacies such as hot dogs and hamburgers are inhaled by the masses, where fireworks are displayed at the end of the day, showing the uniting patriotism that knits the fabric of this great country.

It is Independence Day and I have not been angrier in my entire life.

Our Fourth of July party took place on the beach. It was a small celebration, one with my father, mother, sister, and Grandma (whom my parents drove in for the holidays).

I was actually having fun. Brianna wasn't being a total goblin and we were actually having fun together.

We raced into the ocean and rubbed our hands around on the ocean floor. Brianna found a starfish and she picked it up and thrust it at me.

"Look! It's Patrick Star!"

I couldn't find a sea sponge anywhere but I did chance upon a seashell.

"Gary the Snail." I said, and Brianna and I quickly made a small play, starring Patrick and Gary…and Miss Penelope. Honestly, that girl won't let her hand puppet go. Seriously, it's getting disturbing.

"Miss Penelope is not even on the show."  
>"Well she is now."<br>"Come on! Miss Penelope's face is half gone."  
>"Shhhhhh! She's insecure about her makeup today!"<br>GAH! Brianna is _so _annoying.

As Brianna and I argued, I realized my father was calling the two of us.

We waded our way back to the shore and saw that he was talking to someone.

"These are my two daughters, Nikki and Brianna."  
>"Nice to meet you." The man said, taking my hand in a firm shake. In his bright blue polo shirt and cargo shorts, he looked very clean-cut and sharp. I realized that he looked like and older, chubbier CCP. "This is my daughter, Mackenzie."<p>

My eyes fell on to the figure to this man's right and to my horror; _his _Mackenzie was _my _worst nightmare.

"Hi, Mackenzie!" Brianna said, waving the starfish around. "Do you want to play SpongeBob with me and Nikki?"

No, I thought, Mackenzie Hollister doesn't play childish games involving Nickelodeon TV shows. Mackenzie Hollister spreads the fact that I play childish games involving Nickelodeon TV shows around school, further demoting me in the dork list, though I was already the dorkiest.

Mackenzie smirked but said sure brightly.

What is this evil witch planning?

My dad ushered me with Brianna and the she-demon, because he wanted to talk alone to Mr. Hollister.

I walked along the beach with Mackenzie as Brianna gushed about this and that and me and how I once spat for distance (Once, okay?! And ONLY to assert my dominance to the neighborhood kids), or how I once laughed so hard, my cereal squirted out of my nose or…

You get it.

Brianna was just blurting out all these embarrassing facts about me and I wanted to strangle her. Mackenzie was smiling evilly and I just knew she'd start talking about me even though the school year is over!

"Brianna, don't you want to play in the ocean?"  
>"Nope. I want to talk to Mackenzie."<br>"Brianna, go play in the ocean."  
>"Why should I?"<br>"Because I said so."  
>"Well, I don't care."<br>"Brianna if you play in the ocean, I'll..."  
>"You'll…"<br>"I'll go to Miss Penelope's nail salon."  
>"I can't hear you." Brianna sang out.<br>I can't believe that brat was making me say it out loud in front of my mortal enemy.  
>"I'll go to Miss Penelope's stupid nail salon, okay?"<br>"Okay!"  
>"Stay near the shore."<br>" 'Kay!"

Brianna bounded off into the ocean and I stopped walking to watch her. I couldn't have her drowning on me. Do you know how long I'd be grounded if she died on my watch?

Let's just say my grave will read GROUNDED instead of RIP.

"You are SUCH a dork, you know that?"

I rolled my eyes.

"And you are such a vain witch."

Mackenzie narrowed her eyes at me then sashayed away towards her CCP friends that were tanning nearby.

God, I hate it when she sashays.

But I'll admit, she did look good in her bikini and I felt very inadequate in my blue, polka-dot tankini. Mackenzie was wearing a white swimsuit that was tight in all the right places and made her look older than she was. We're all around 14 and 15, so I know that this is around the time when we're growing and this summer, I noticed my hips have widened a little and my bra is just a bit too tight but I feel like a child when I compare myself to Mackenzie. Just looking at her made me feel angry.

She sauntered back with her CCP friends, all hip swaying, shoulder moving boys and girls. They looked like models and I knew that they were coming here to bully me…in style.

"Oh my God!" blurted Jessica, Mackenzie's best friend, "She looks so adorable. Not!"

Wow, so clever.

"Ugh, are you sure she's the same age as us? Or is she eight?" One of the boys said, I think it was Jason.

Well, hey, buster! This swimsuit is unflattering and I didn't have a better one, but buddy, if I did own a better one, you'd be dead because my looks could _kill_.

"She's probably five!" Mackenzie spat. "The games she was playing with that snot-nosed kid," she gestured at Brianna who was splashing around in the water with her starfish, "were downright _childish_."

The CCP's snickered at me.

"I mean," Mackenzie continued, "SpongeBob Square-Pants? Seriously? What next: Dora the Explorer? Are you sure you didn't come straight out of the womb?"

The CCP's let out a roar of laughter. _COME ON! _That was not even SLIGHTLY funny, yet they were smacking-their-knees, clutching-their-stomachs laughing, like Mackenzie was a professional comedian. Like she was the Chris Rock incarnate.

"Cut her some slack Mackenzie." Jessica said slyly. "She may actually look older but it's so _obvious _that she can't afford a decent looking swimsuit."

Hey! It may make me look a _little _younger but it's definitely more than decent. I look cutesy in this, like – like Brianna does in her matching purple one-piece. Crap.

My face turned red at the fact that my style even remotely resembled one of a bratty six-year-old. The CCP's saw my blush and thought it was because they called me poor and though I am angry with that, I was more preoccupied with the horror that Brianna and I were in fact…twinning!

Mackenzie sneered. "She is poor! Her dad _kills bugs _for a _living._ Hmph. My _Succesful _father is her dad's boss."

Excuse me? My father is successful in his own ways. He doesn't have to live in a mansion and drive fancy-schmancy cars.

"Correction. _Your _dad is _my _dad's client." I said.  
>"Same thing." Jessica snapped.<br>The other CCP's went on as if they had not heard me.  
>"Oh, really?" Ryan, the other male CCP cooed.<br>"Yeah!" Mackenzie said, excitedly, thinking she hit a nerve. But um…no. It's no big secret that my dad exterminates for her father.  
>"He totally sucks." She said flipping her hair. The Cute Cool and Popular members laughed.<br>Okay, she hit a nerve.  
>"He does not!" I denied. My dad is diligent and hardworking and he always makes sure the job is done perfectly and I told them so.<br>"Well then why does my house still have pests?"  
>"Because you're like rotten food and you attract parasites?"<br>Mackenzie frowned. "Or because your dad is bad at what he does."

I was getting really upset. My face was hot with rage and I could feel angry tears stinging at my eyes. I calmed myself down and restrained myself from pulling at Mackenzie's stupidly blonde hair.

"If my dad is really so bad, why hasn't your father fired him yet?"  
>Mackenzie's smile curled down at the edges and I felt like I gained a point. But as soon as her frown came it went. "Hmm, you're right. So I guess I'll just have to bring the pests to my house, then."<br>"You'd really infest your own house just to fire my dad?"  
>She shrugged. "Sure why not?"<p>

Her friends laughed as if this was just some joke. Mackenzie was talking about ruining someone's life just because I'm too childish for her and her friends just laughed like it was the funniest thing they've ever heard.

I was about to snap when Brianna came running back to the shore.

"Hey Nikki! I think I just saw a jellyfish!"

Oh no, I thought, I had known where this was going.

"Brianna shut-"  
>"Remember that time you got stung by a jellyfish and you cried so hard you peed?"<p>

UGHHHHHHHHH! I will murder that child one day, so help me God!

I swear the CCP's laughed so hard at my expense that THEY almost peed.

They sashayed away when they regained composure.

But before they left an angry me with a clueless Brianna, Ryan turned around and said:

"Huh, they do look the same. God, she really does look like a five-year old."

When we went back home, my dad gushed all about Mr. Hollister and his picture-perfect family while I fumed silently in the back of the car. Upon reaching the house, I stormed to my room, and locked my self in.

So diary, you see why I am so furious?

Not only did she repeatedly call me a baby, but she also threatened to put my dad out of business, potentially sending my family and I to the streets.

I eyed myself in the mirror, rotating and standing tall and cocking my hips.

Tomorrow I'm going to buy a bikini.

* * *

><p><strong>*Edit** I got the dates wrong, instead of Tuesday, July 4th it was Thursday, July 4th. Sorry, Sorry. I'm using the 2013 calendar for the Summer and I looked at June 4th, not July 4th.<strong>

**I have nothing against Calvin Klein perfume/cologne. **

**I do not own Dork Diaries.  
>I do not own Netflix.<br>I do not own Gossip Girl.  
>I do not own Nickelodeon or any of it's shows.<br>I do not own High-school Musical.**

**Review**


	2. Chapter 2

**Friday, July 5****th**

My mother was absolutely giddy that I had wanted to buy a bikini. She said, "Ooh, my little girl is turning into a woman!"

How embarrassing!

My dad however, said that it was the worst idea ever and expressed his disgust. I don't think he really cared, though. He was probably just putting up an appearance, you know, trying to make it seem like he's the overprotective father.

My grandmother told me she wished she could be there but alas, she had to make her way back to her hometown with my dad. She was being really dramatic about the whole thing, and she and my mother were making it seem like instead of buying a swimsuit, I was about to go on a life-altering journey that involved saving baby koalas but would ultimately scar me emotionally.

No Mom, Grandma, I'm just going down to Target.

At the store my Mom left me in the swimsuit section and said, "Happy Hunting! I'm going to get groceries. Text me when you're done, okay? Get two pairs."

"Okay." I had replied, already walking around, stopping and staring at racks.

At first, it all seemed fruitless. Some of the bathing suits were for more buxom girls, others for much smaller women, and some were just the wrong color, the wrong look.

I was about to resign myself into thinking, "Meh. Tankini's are underrated" when I saw them: a black halter bikini top with mint green bottoms to go with it. They looked right but did they fit right?

In the dressing room, I couldn't contain my grin and I just HAD to do the Snoopy dance. These were it! I wanted to lounge around in them forever. I changed back into my clothes and went to look for another swimsuit like my mom had instructed. I liked the different colors so I tried to find swimsuits that fit this condition.

I found a light grey top and indigo bottoms. And between both pairs, I can make more combinations! Ha! Eat your heart out, Mackenzie!

I texted my mom like she wanted and she saw the pairs I chose.

"Are you sure?" she looked concerned.  
>"What do you mean?"<br>"I mean that they're a bit plain." She looked around at all the swimsuits and her face brightened. "What about this?"

She pulled out something that's meant for Brianna, complete with butterfly clips and babyish looking patterns.

A look of horror overtook my face and I clutched on to the bikinis I had picked. "No."

"Okay…fine. Then…" she looks for another pair and finds one, "this?"

It was something meant for people older than me…or bolder than me. It looked small and stringy and…where was the part that would cover my butt?

"Mom…I'm not trying to skinny dip."

We bought the ones I picked and my mom wanted to see how I looked in them. She said it was something about seeing the exact moment of my transition into womanhood.

So I wore them, if only to indulge her.

"Ooh, you're so cuuuuuute." Mom said.

Cute? Like Brianna cute? Is that what you're saying? No Mom, I'm going for Dangerous Cute, like I could kill a man and still look innocent while doing it.

My mom then called my dad and Brianna, telling them to see how cute I am.

"Ew!" Brianna wretched, opening her mouth wide and pointing to her throat. "Nikki is NOT cute, I am!"  
>"<em>Excuse me?"<br>_"You're excused." Brianna said, pushing me to the side so she could pose for my mom.

"Oh my gosh! Honey, get the camera!" Mom clapped, encouraging Brianna to pose more. My dad ran around looking for the camera but tripping on the rug.

My family is so weird!

* * *

><p><span><strong>Wednesday, July 10t<strong>**h**

After a week of doing absolutely nothing, I had decided to visit Brandon. It took a lot of self-motivation, imagined scenarios, and self-inflicted embarrassment for me to…sit on my bed and try to re-encourage myself.

"Okay Nikki, you are cool, you are suave."  
>I got up and struck a pose in my mirror.<br>"You're smart, you're witty, and Brandon wants to see you."  
>I jumped up and down.<br>"You want to see him, too."  
>I struck another pose and did a little dance.<br>"You are funny, you are…grace. You are Miss United States."

I laughed at myself and felt better.

I looked good today, at least; slowly I had changed my closet. I had got tired of my old clothes and thought it was time for some variety. Today, I was wearing a flower printed skirt that started at my waist and ended mid-thigh. I loosely tucked in my white tank top. My nails were painted a light blue and my sandals were very comfortable. I kept my hair in its usual ponytail, though.

I twirled around and made those guns with my fingers that slick guys in old movies do and gestured at myself in the mirror. "Lookin' good, babe, let's do this."

Gosh, I am SUCH a dork!

"Mom, Dad, I'm going to the animal shelter. It's called Fuzzy Friends and it's close by. I'll call you when I get there!"

"Okay!" my mom shouted back, she and Brianna were cooking Lord-knows-what in the kitchen.

The walk to Fuzzy Friends was nice and the weather felt really good. When I opened the door, the thought dawned on me that maybe Brandon wasn't here but then I quickly felt bad because with or without Brandon, visiting this place was something I should regularly do. I mean, I like the couple that owns Fuzzy Friends and taking care of animals is really fun.

"Nikki!" Exclaimed Betty Smith, the co-owner of Furry Friends and Brandon's grandmother. "It has been a while!"  
>"Yeah! I thought I'd stop by and visit Brandon. If he's not here, that's okay, I'd like to help out!"<br>"Nikki Maxwell, you are very sweet. Brandon is here. He is in the backyard taking pictures for the website."  
>"Thanks Mrs. Smith."<br>"Please, Mrs. Smith was my mother, call me Betty."

I nodded and went to the backyard and there he was, laughing at the dogs that were wrestling in the mud. Okay, I had asked myself, what do you say?

"Wash!" I yelled out. I mentally smacked myself for not forming my thoughts into grammatically correct sentences and _then _speaking.

Brandon turned around, and he had a look of surprise on his face. "Nikki? What are you doing here?"  
>"Um…" I was blushing at my stupid statement. Wash? Really? I am SO lame. "I just wanted to see you."<p>

I looked down at the grass because he wasn't saying anything but when I looked back up, he was blushing, too, which made me blush harder so I had to clear my throat.

"So…um…when your done, I can help you wash them, if you want."  
>"Well I just finished."<br>"Great."  
>"Yeah, let me get you something to wear over your clothes. I think I have a t-shirt here somewhere. Sometimes I spend the night here so it's probably in a bag or something. Can you get the tub and soap and fill it with water while I look for one?"<br>"Sure!"

We walked back into the shelter with each other and then went to complete our designated tasks. I remembered where the tub (plastic kiddy-pool) was from my last visit. I put the towels, brushes, and a bowl and soap into it and heaved it up. The tub was pretty light so it was no trouble getting it out the door.

I used a hose and filled it with water and made sure it was warm for the puppies. They jumped around trying to rub themselves on me and for the sake of my shirt; I tried to play with them without directly touching them. Taking of my sandals, I ran around the backyard and let them chase me. The puppies were yelping and stumbling over each other and just being cute. I was laughing so hard.

"Nikki?" I saw Brandon standing at the doorway, extra shirt in hand and I jogged to him, the dogs followed so I hid behind Brandon, clutching to the shirt he was wearing and laughing.

They tried to circle around him and get to me but he blocked them off and let them jump on him, getting mud on his bare shins. My feet were pretty muddy from running around on the wet grass, so when some stray mud got on my legs, I didn't mind.

When the pups calmed down and retreated back into the yard where they proceeded to wrestle and get themselves even dirtier, I realized what I was doing and immediately let go of Brandon's shirt.

"Sorry!"  
>It's fine, here."<p>

He handed me a plain brown shirt and I put it on. It went a little past my skirt. I didn't think this was Brandon's. It was just too big.

"School play in Florida, I had to wear it. I now wear it over my pajamas." He said.

"Oh." I didn't ask him about the school play and what character required such a huge shirt like I was going to, instead my mind focused on the fact that I was wearing his pajamas.

I wore Brandon Roberts' pajamas.

Excuse me while I short-circuit.

I think I was blushing because Brandon asked me what's wrong and if I ran too much. I shook my head and we went to break apart the dogs that were just rubbing against one another, smearing the mud deeper into their black fur.

I picked one of them up and he pressed himself into my body, thankfully, because of Brandon's shirt, I felt clean underneath.

I deposited him into the soapy water, using the bowl to pour water on his body. Before he could shake, I had already grabbed the next dog and put her in the water. There were only three dogs so placing them all in the tub wasn't a hassle.

We washed them meticulously, making sure that ALL the mud rinsed from their bodies. Afterwards, the dogs shook of the water simultaneously and I flinched away, screeching. Brandon laughed and I picked up a fluff of soap and blew it at him. He ducked away and reached into the tub for some suds and smeared it on my face!

I picked up bigger suds and pressed it into his hair.

"Oh this means war," he said and a soap battle ensued. When we were thoroughly covered in the popping bubbles, we stopped fighting each other and were making impressions of other people.

"Look! I'm an 18th century lawyer!" I had yelled, shaping the soap on my head to what I'm pretty sure looked like one of the wigs I'd see in those old paintings.  
>"Santa Clause!" Brandon said, stroking his soap beard.<br>"Unoriginal! Score: 2.5!"  
>"Not fair!"<br>I shrugged. "I don't make the rules."

Brandon laughed and was about to make another creation with the soap when his eyes had widened.

"Nikki this is dirty water!"

I gasped. We had been cleaning the puppies and paused briefly for this duel, forgetting that the soap we were using as weaponry was the muddy soap that washed off the dogs.

Yuck!

But I laughed. Hey, it was funny!

"Okay Santa, let's towel off the dogs and then we can rinse ourselves."  
>"But your clothes –"<br>"It's fine, Brandon. I'd rather just rinse off the soap from my hair and then go home and wash my clothes."  
>"But –"<br>"Here" I said, taking off the shirt he had given me. The hem of my skirt was slightly wet and water had seeped through the shirt dampening the top I was wearing underneath.

"Ha." Brandon chuckled, taking back his shirt, "I guess it didn't do much."  
>"It kept the mud away." I said.<br>"True." He smiled and we both plucked the puppies out, setting them on the patio.

I grabbed a towel and opened it, one of the puppies rushed into it and I captured him in it. I dried him fast so I could get to the third dog that was waiting for Brandon to dry his sister. I sent the dog I was drying inside so he wouldn't get a chance to run into the mud again before I started towelling off his brother.

The puppy curled into the towel like a blanket and plopped to the ground as if it was going to sleep. I dried his back and the dog rolled over for me so I could dry his belly and paws. Wow, this canine is going places, I tell you.

After all the dogs were dry and inside, Brandon went inside to grab extra towels for the two of us.

We stood by the hose.

"Ready?" Brandon asked and I nodded and bent over so the water wouldn't get on my clothes.

He turned on the water and placed the hose over my head. It was cold. And I shrieked, tensing up. After a while I started scrubbing the muddy soap out of my hair and Brandon helped, too.

Spending this much time with Brandon and letting him touch my hair was overwhelming and I could feel my face getting hot. I rubbed my face on the place he had dabbed soap.

On Brandon's turn, I had to stand on my toes to reach his hair, which was incredibly soft by the way. I tried not to look him in the eyes. He was looking at me and our faces were so close and his eyes were so blue I just wanted to punch him. I mean, they weren't light blue but dark and deep and it just made me uncomfortable and tingly so I had to look away and focus on his hair.

I know. I'm dorky and stupid.

Afterwards, we both dried ourselves off with a towel. My hair was sticking up every which way and I combed it out with my fingers. Brandon was messing with his hair, giving himself a Mohawk and then pig-tails and I was laughing because HE was being dorky and cute and funny.

He walked me to the door and offered to walk me home. I turned him down, though, because I didn't want him to walk ALL the way there and then ALL the way back. Gosh, he's such a gentleman.

Before I left, he stopped me.

"Hey Nikki."  
>"Yes."<br>"Would you be interested in…" he looked away and coughed.  
>"In what?"<br>"Would you like to…" He trailed off again and blushed.  
>"Brandon?"<br>"Yes?"  
>"You can ask me anything." I smiled, could he possibly get any cuter? Seriously.<br>He grinned, then, but his blush seemed to burn brighter. "Would you like to help me out with a photography project?"  
>"Sure. What do I do?"<br>"You'll be my subject."  
>"Subject?"<br>"Yes. I'm supposed to capture human emotion, like anger, sadness, happiness, curiosity, all of that or most of that so I want to take candid pictures of you."  
>"Really? Yeah, I'll do it. What's it for?"<br>"A contest."  
>"That's great." I said. Then I started wondering why me? So I asked him.<p>

"Well, I was going to ask you already because I thought you'd be the perfect subject but then I was reassured when I saw you playing with the puppies. No one was watching you and you were completely yourself and I wish I had taken a picture so you could see. You were laughing so hard. That would have been a perfect shot."

I blushed but didn't look down. Instead I smiled. That was the nicest ting I'd heard in a while. I usually think I look like a hog when I laugh but apparently someone doesn't see me that way. And that someone being Brandon was icing on the cake.

"Thanks," I said, "When do we start?"  
>"Is tomorrow good?"<br>"Yes, boss."  
>"Thank you, Nikki. The competition goes on for a month and I have to turn it in on the 10th of August."<br>"Cool. When did it start?"  
>"Yesterday. I was gonna call you so I'm glad you came."<br>"If I didn't have perfect timing, then my name isn't Nikki Maxwell."

Brandon laughed and opened the door for me.

"See ya, Boss!" I said, walking home. It was late afternoon and the sky was orange. I was still a little damp and Brandon was walking beside me.

"What the… I said you didn't have to walk me."  
>Brandon shrugged. "It's not far, plus I get to say hi to Brianna!"<p>

I groaned at the thought of him and Brianna. The last time they met, she was being pretty embarrassing.

When we reached my house, I let him in and Brianna came running up to me. "Look what me and Miss Penelope made!"

All I saw was a blob of brown in her palms and my immediate reaction was to recoil and smack the glob of unknown matter out of her hands. But I had restraint and just frowned at the brown goop.

Brandon picked up out of her hands and asked her what it was. After listing her ingredients, I found out it was just chocolate that she didn't shape well. Brandon took a cautious nibble then handed me some. I ate it and it actually was tasty.

We finished it and Brianna grinned. "Me and Miss Penelope are going to open up a restaurant!"

Brandon congratulated her and that's when it finally clicked in her brain who he was. "C-c-c-cooties!" And the brat ran away screaming.

Brandon took this as his cue to leave.

"See you tomorrow!" He said. "Also, we'll be working a lot with each other, okay? So you should probably clear out your schedule for the rest of the month because we'll be spending time together every day."

I couldn't contain my smile. "What are we doing though? How do we perfectly capture my emotion?"  
>"We'll just be hanging out. Just act normal. I'll take pictures when you least expect it."<p>

I nodded and he left. My brain had stopped working after he had said, "Just hanging out".

I'll be with Brandon every day for a month…

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEE!

* * *

><p><strong>So <strong>**If anyone's like Brandon's eyes are brown not blue but brown. On the wiki, it says his eyes are a deep blue. The other one says his eyes are brown (it's the one that says dorkdiaries1 in the url) but I don't believe it because a)it doesn't look as legit as the other one and b)this one also had a Nikki Maxwell wiki and compared to the one I trust, it's much shorter and leaves out so much. So if you have a problem, take it up with the wiki.**

**Also Nikki's eyes are green, according to the wiki I trust. So...  
><strong>**Brandon: light brown hair and deep, blue eyes  
>Nikki: Brown hair and green eyes.<strong>

**Anyway, thanks for reading.**

**REVIEW**


	3. Chapter 3

**Christ, it's been a while. So an update! Yay. I think this is my first ****fic update since Summer started. wowza. Anyway...**

**_Enjoy_  
><strong>

* * *

><p><span><strong>Thursday, July 11<strong>**th**

Brianna was making me take part in her nail salon's grand opening.

At first, I had resisted, telling the child that I had never agreed to any such thing.

"But on the beach," she blubbered. "You told me to play in the ocean because Mackenzie was there. Remember."

Brianna looked close to tears and I had to rack my brain for exactly what I had said on the beach.

My eyes widened. _Crap._

Why did I agree to such a horrific thing? Brianna was able to sense my realization and grinned from ear to ear as she adopted some fake, exotic accent.

"Mizz Penelope and I vill make you look bootiful."

Ten minutes later, my troll of a sister had set up a makeshift salon. Complete with assortments of nail polish, files, and even…makeup?

"Brianna this is a nail salon, right? Why do you have makeup? You're not planning to use it on me, are you?"

"It's the grand – " Brianna coughed, and started over, this time with her fake accent. "Eet's ze Grand Opening. Ze makeover eez complimentary."

"But it's a NAIL salon." I persisted. There was no way I was letting the tiny devil near my face.

Brianna scowled her tantrum scowl. Her face squeezed in that way it did before she had a complete, A-List celebrity, someone-hold-me-back meltdown. "BUT YOU PROMISED TO COME TO THE GRAND OPENING!"

"Fine! Make me over." I mumbled. "Sheesh."

"Yay." Brianna said, turning her head to my fingers. Her face had switched back to normal faster than I had even said, "Fine".

God, this kid was scary.

Half an hour later, my fingernails and toenails were a hot mess. It looked like a My Little Pony threw up on my hands and feet. It was awful. And could you count on Brianna to keep the polish on your nails?

No. It went from the tips of my fingernails to my knuckles. How one can mess up so badly, I do not know.

When Brianna finished with my nails, she moved to my hair. I was about to protest, remembering the incident when she CHOPPED OFF MY HAIR but Brianna was going to throw a Class-A tantrum and I was not about to deal with that kind of child drama. Can you believe she had the gall to act like she was the victim?

Puh-lease.

The makeup she had put on my face felt heavy and sticky but after a while of sitting there, I was getting used to it. Miss Penelope's Nail Salon had some pretty good service, too. Brianna - Ahem. _Miss Penelope - _was running up and down, fetching me water, snacks, magazines. She was even fanning me, trying to dry my nails.

All in all, I felt like queen.

I even got so comfortable that when the doorbell rang, I stood up, yelled, "I'm coming" and opened it.

And there, on the other side of my door was Brandon. I resisted the urge to "Squee" and smiled at him.

He looked shell-shocked and I stared quizzically at him, like something was wrong. And then I remembered how I looked.

I felt my cheeks warm up as I became aware of the mountain of tacky makeup Brianna had applied to my face. My lips were heavier with the various layers of lip-gloss; I had even felt her applying the eye shadow to everywhere but my eyes. Who knows where else she messed up?

My eyes widened, as I stared at Brandon. Oh my God, my hair! Brianna had pulled my hair into three odd ponytails – two on the top, like horns, and one in the back, before teasing them, making me look like a frizzy monster.

Brandon was beginning to smile and my face twisted into a look of utter mortification. My mouth could have split in half; I had opened it so wide. My eyes were two round saucers of surprise and shame. My cheeks, neck, and ears reddened with embarrassment.

And at that moment, when I was at the peak of my humiliation, Brandon lifted up the camera hanging around his neck and took a picture.

I wanted to cry, I wanted to vomit, I wanted to KILL Brianna. I wanted to hurt Brandon. How could he take a picture? When I was in such an ugly state. My throat burned and I wanted to say something, ANYTHING to express the rage and sadness I was feeling. Instead I just gaped at him.

He looked down at the picture and his smile exploded into a grin that would've made me melt if he hadn't just took a picture of me as Nikki the Clown.

"Perfect." He muttered.

My mouth snapped shut at this. Perfect?

Brandon looked up at me. "Nikki, I love your face."

I knew my cheeks were burning bright and crimson. Realizing what he said, Brandon stumbled over his words. "I mean – What I meant – Your face, its – Heh. I'm being a total dweeb right now, aren't I?"

I raised an eyebrow (which probably looked weird because the way Brianna did my eyebrow gave me a thick, black uni-brow). Brandon: a dweeb? Even when I was standing in front of him, with my three ponytails and crappy makeup and nails? Ha!

"I meant that your emotions are always clear on your face and I love that." Brandon was blushing and I blushed again too. Brandon just saying the word "love" or "like" when pertaining to me was enough to make my brain short-circuit. Heck, even him referring to me at all would make me combust.

"Anyway. It's a perfect shot for the contest. Really amazing." Brandon said, scratching the back of his head.

Realizing he took the picture for the contest loosened the knot in my stomach.

"Okay, well. I probably look like an idiot. What with Brianna's _brilliant_ makeover."

Brandon smiled. "Nikki, you never look like an idiot. Just…silly. Sometimes. May I come in?"

I nodded and stepped to the side so he could enter. When he was inside, Brianna regarded him in the same way a bird might regard a cat.

She was up on the couch, pressed back into the pillows, as if she would disappear into it. "C-cooties." She said, looking wide-eyed and horrified in Brandon's direction.

Brandon laughed and tried to walk towards the little demon.

"Stay away! I don't want your cooties. Take one more step and I'll…I'll – _Miss Penelope_ will hurt you!" She said "Miss Penelope" in a way that implied that Miss Penelope was more than just the hand of a six year-old.

"Miss -" Brandon started to ask.

"Hand puppet." I said.

"Miss Penelope is NOT a hand puppet." Brianna cried. Like legitimate, I'm-scared-upset-and-a-child tears.

Brandon immediately took action. "Of course not." Brandon looked at me. "She gave Nikki this wicked cool makeover?"

I nodded.

"She gave Nikki a makeover." Brandon said with more certainty as he turned back to my weeping sister. "Miss Penelope is as real gets."

Brianna sniffed. "Yeah. She's really real." The kid wiped her tears and stepped off the couch and made her way to Brandon. "Do you want Miss Penelope to give you a makeover?"

I frowned. "Brianna, no." "Yes."

I turned to Brandon. "Huh?"

An hour later and Brandon was in the same state as I was: gaudy makeup and terrible hair.

I laughed at him when he presented himself. He did a spin and a bow before posing in typical model poses. He looked terrible. He looked horrific. He looked ridiculous, silly, funny, and cute.

The fact that he had sat there, talking with my baby sister as she did his makeup, nails, and hair was incredibly sweet. Looking at Brandon, with his hand on his hip in a ridiculous manner made my chest fill up with warmth and I had the urge to scream.

But I didn't. I just grinned and said, "Ten out of ten. I would repeat this look."

Brandon sashayed over to me. I laughed. This was the ONLY sashaying I would ever appreciate or even tolerate.

"Come on." I smiled. "Let's wash this off."

"Wait." Brandon said, walking next to me. His shoulder bumped into mine. And when I moved to look at him, I accidentally slipped closer so that I was resting against his chest. I continued to look at him, my face reddening.

"I want to capture this moment." Brandon said.

I was still blushing at our proximity when he took the picture. He showed me the shot he had taken and looking at the screen, I smiled one of those big smiles that people have when they can't contain themselves.

There was Brandon; smiling handsomely at the camera while all I could do was lean against his chest and stare at him, with red cheeks and ears.

Despite our weird get-ups, the picture was very cute.

"Did you take that for the project?" I asked.

"No, I took it for us." Brandon slid his arm from my shoulder and he was grinning, totally unaffected by what he said. "Hey, where's the bathroom. I want to wash this off."

"Down the hall and on the right." I mumbled.

He left me a blushing, sputtering mess. My heart was beating rapidly. My mouth was twitching and I was smiling and frowning and groaning. I wanted to explode so I could let out what I was feeling but at the same time, I wanted to implode. I wanted it all to stay inside. This was a an emotion that I didn't want to share with anyone.

"Nikki?" Brandon's head popped out from the bathroom door. I turned to face him. "Aren't you coming? Don't you want to wash it off? Come on, I'll help you."

I shook my head and walked towards him.

Okay, Diary, I know what your thinking. In the bathroom, as Brandon tentatively placed the wet towel on my cheek, he leaned in close, whispering, "Nikki, I love you."

I gasped and cried out, "Brandon, you wound me so! I had waited for you. But you took to long! And I ran into the arms of…Fernando!"

Then a tall, tan, steaming hunk of a man quickly ran into the bathroom and caught me when I fell.

…Okay, so your probably weren't thinking that and in all honesty, I got carried away with the story.

What truly transpired in the bathroom was innocent, actually. Brandon didn't even wipe the makeup from my face. We cleaned our respective faces, thank you very much. He just helped me pull out the ponytails that Brianna had put in my hair and I helped him remove his nail polish.

Afterwards we went to my room. Which I didn't realize was a big deal until he was sitting on my bed. He probably realized because he blushed the minute I said, "Let's go to my room."

Brandon sat on my bed and avoided looking at me while I stood as stiff as a statue in front of my closet door. After five agonizing minutes, one of us said something. I can't remember exactly what was said or who even said it, but it opened up the conversation and Brandon and I planned on where we'd be going and what we'd be doing for the next couple of days.

When he left, I changed into my pajamas and curled up underneath my covers. I was grinning from in the ear so I let out a squee.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Friday, July 12<strong>**th**

I woke up feeling happy. I was groggy, of course. My mouth felt sticky and heavy with morning. My eyes were crusty as it usually was when it was bright and early. But still, I felt happy.

I wiped at my eyes and went to bathroom to brush my teeth. When I returned to my room, my mom was sitting on my bed.

"Good morning." I crooned, still drunk off spending time with Brandon.

"Good morning, Nikki." My mom smiled. "I heard you had a boy in your room."

My cheeks warmed up a little. "Y-yeah. It's not a big deal."

ARG! The way I said it made it sound like a big deal!

"That's exactly what I want to talk to you about. The "big deal"– Oh, I wish you're father wasn't working. We had a puppet show we were going to put on for you. Ooh, it was going to be so **cute.**" My mom clapped her hands and squealed. I looked at her with a horrified expression until she coughed, realizing how unprofessional she was being.

Obviously, she spends way too much time with Brianna.

"Anyway, Nikki. Disregarding cuteness, _I _am here to talk to you. It may actually be for the best. You're father would be so awkward. Okay, let's get started." She said this as if she were in a how-to TV show, all bright smile and peppy voice.

But I knew with dread where this was going.

"Nikki, when two people love each other – actually love doesn't have to be there at all – when two people feel some sort of attraction for each other, they –"

"Okay, Mom, I don't need to know this." I said hastily.

My mom smiled. "Oh but you do. See, I don't want you to be unprepared. You need this knowledge, you know, for the future. You're at the age where you start feeling things and as your mother, I should help you work through these feelings. So you can be safe." My mom let out a breath of air and put a serious smile on her face. "Now…I'm assuming you already know what an erection is."

"Okayyy." I said, rolling me eyes and pulling my mom up by her arm. "It's great that you're trying to teach me all these new, wonderful things. And I appreciate it – I really do. But Mom, I don't need all this knowledge right here and now. But when I do, you'll be the first to know."

"Nikki –"

"Please, Mom."

She smiled but it was one of those forced, I-really-want-to-say-this smiles. She nodded and left my room and I stared at the shut door.

Call me immature but I'm not ready to have that conversation yet. I know some stuff already; I'm 14 and people talk. But if I discuss it with my mom, discuss all the works and the tools, that's ALL I'm going to be thinking about when I'm with Brandon and then I'll be awkward; Even more awkward and dorky than I am right. Besides, right now, when I look at Brandon, I can only see as far as kissing him.

Call me a fool for passing up knowledge so I don't look like a dweeb but that's just the way I see it.

"Nikki!" I heard my mom shout. "Time for breakfast."

When I entered the kitchen, my mom passed me a plate of pancakes that were already doused in syrup.

"Nikki has cooties!" Brianna yelled as my mom cut her pancakes up into pieces.

I almost wished the tot would choke on her food.

My mom winked at me. "Who wants to go to the movies?" She asked.

"Meeeeee!" Brianna yelled, her sticky hands shot up in the air. "I wanna see the new Princess Sugar Plum movie."

"Sure. I'll go."

Brianna sent me a look and screamed something about cooties. I frowned. "But that child has to be contained."

My mom and I laughed.

Brianna denied being a child.

* * *

><p><strong>So the sex talk. I probably will never go into depth with it cause why, I'm not your parent, so I'm not going to preach. I included it because Nikki is at that age where she wants a bae and she gets curious. And this story is I guess like a coming of age story depending on how long it is.<strong>

**I'm not sure if 14 is the age where parents usually talk about sex with their children but my mom gave me the talk when I was like 8 or 9 so...I'm actually pretty knowledgable. **

**There will be no pregnancies in this fic like ever. No teen pregnancies and no non-teen(?) pregnancies.**

**_I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, please review and tell me how you liked it. Thanks._  
><strong>


End file.
